I Was Sitting at the Bar

I was sitting at the bar with my head down as usual, just listening. Snippets of conversations mixed with someone's jukebox selection filled my brain. Laughter loud and quick. Glasses being pounded to table by unsteady hands not too sure of which dimension they actually now belonged in. My glass was half filled with warming beer. I'd lost all interest in it. Had enough for now. Then...

Perfume. I awoke and breathed deep. This was unexpected. This is wonderful I heard myself think. With head still bowed I drank in her chosen scent and imagined.

Red. Crimson? No scarlet red. Seriously red. Like blood. Not like my blood, like female blood. The perfume smelled of woman.

My chest contracted then filled, taking her molecules deep into my lungs. Soon the perfume had mixed with my blood until I felt comfortable knowing something real about this woman even before I had opened my eyes.

The bartender put her drink down hard on the bar. I hadn't heard her order ,maybe she didn't need to, maybe they had an understanding?

"Thanks," she said.

I opened my eyes to see him expertly scoop up the bills she had put down. Her voice trailed off into the mix of humanity.

She too was red.

I'd imagined a younger woman somehow, but then I always imagined them younger. But I no longer imagined them young.

Years ago most men would have called her beautiful, stunning in fact. The interesting thing was that now she was beautiful. Back then she was just a girl. What the fuck was I thinking? Too much beer, too much time, too much scarlet perfume.

I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, searching for an opening line.

"Thank you. I'll take that as a compliment," she said. I found myself looking directly into her dark eyes unable to verbally respond.

She laughed, "Come on, I bet you can talk?"

"How much?"

"Another drink when you're ready."

"Wait I'm confused. Who actually pays if I can talk?"

"Jesus. I will." she replied with a curt flip of her hair.

"What do you think I should say win this bet?"

"Tell me something nice."

"You smell wonderful," I answered without one moments' hesitation.

"Really? Wonderful? Not good or sexy. Wonderful?"

"Well, you actually made me wonder."

"Oh?" She lifted the glass to her lips and sipped.

"About what exactly?"

This was too good to be true. She was too good to be true. I took another swig of the perfume for courage.

"If you were the woman of my dreams?"

We both could not help the laughter that followed my ridiculously clever line.

"Well I could be..."her soft voice trailed off into the bar.

"Yes I know. But are you?" My eyes locked on hers fully expecting the answer she gave.

"We'll see. You decide."

Our attention was pulled to the sound of braking glass and one hell of a mess for someone to clean up. The worker bees soon had things under control and the world narrowed down to just we two again.

"Do you dance?" she asked. The music had slowed and there just happened to be a small dance floor that a few brave souls had begun to populate.

"No. Yes. Well lets' just say I can get the job done."

She passed on the straight line that hung in the air and offered me her hand.

A quick spin off the stool and I found myself worming my way behind her and heading to the only open patch.

Melted. She melted against my body. Electric and flowing I found I could dance with this woman. Dance well in fact.

Midway through the song she whispered in my ear, "Hold me like it is the last dance on prom night."

I dropped both my hands to her hips, feeling the top of her panties through the thin material of her sundress. Her arms wrapped around my neck, lips brushed against my neck sending a signal to my crotch. I couldn't help the response to her gesture and I didn't try. I knew she could feel me getting hard.

" Yep, just like prom night," I thought and to seal the deal I allowed my hands to drop to the round curve of her ass, feeling her tighten as I pulled her against the bulge in my pants.

When she kissed my neck I pushed my hips forward into her, she did the same. Maybe the folks watching us in the dim light could see this couple fucking with their clothes on. Maybe not. But it sure began to feel like I was fucking this woman.

The DJ was kind and faded in another slow one.

"Kiss me," I said.

She raised her mouth and I found it soft, warm, willing. There seemed to be no hurry. We kissed with lips closed feeling tentative and excited and needing more. Strangely we found ourselves no longer moving to the music, we were making out on the dance floor, my hands all over her ass, her arms pulling me tighter against her body. My tongue found her lips. Salty sweet and opening slightly she let me enter. Gentle a first I slid forward getting used to the newness of her lips, her mouth and then her tongue. HER tongue! She wrapped it around mine; she used it to play with me, to play with my lips.

"Ouch," she laughed.

My hands had tightened on her ass; the dress pulled up high enough for an R rating. There was just enough song left for us to cool down and compose ourselves for the long walk back to the bar. My erection was still quite evident as I took my stool.

She lifted her cold drink and swallowed what was left in one long draw. As the glass hit the bar I felt her hand in my lap, deliberate. Cupping my cock she called to the bartender, "I need another." He brought two.

"I'm buying,"

"I'll let you. After all you lost the bet," I said.

We raised our glasses in a mock toast and drank.

"So am I?"

"We'll see," was my pithy reply.

We sat in silence, that is we did not speak, we listened and drank and watched.

Hank (not his real name) brought us another round. This time I paid, "No I insist."

Her hand never left my crotch throughout our drinking. Nice touch I thought! Damn nice touch.

"So what would the girl of your dreams do now I wonder?"

She did not look at me as she asked this, the question more to herself then to me. A moment or so later she stood and faced me and without a 'by your permission sir' spread my legs. Quickly turning she forced that tight, round, perfect ass up against my cock and began to move to the music. Kinda overt I thought, but classy.

Every time I pushed forward against her she moved away only to return at my retreat. She kept the pressure on but she was the one to control of it. My hands, however were allowed to roam as they pleased. A half drunk man can roam quite far it turns out.

It was by now a very crowded bar and everyone appeared to very happy! So why not I thought, dream time!

Her breasts! One in each hand, large, firm, full, pointed. I pulled her back against me, she fought but I had the leverage. I buried my face in her perfumed hair and again breathed deeply of it and held on tight as her hips gyrated. Heaven. Almost. Mustn't.

The alcohol, the music, her tits, her ass...things were quickly beginning to add up. This could get messy!

"Or could she be a nightmare?" Through the haze I heard her exclaim just as she stopped moving, just as she broke loose from my hold. Prom night interuptus.

Spinning, her hair flying she faced me. Breathless (breath-less-ah)

"So boy what would your dream girl do now?" Again she asked me the simple question.

Involuntarily my hands went to her face and pulled her to mine. Our lips locked, opened and tongues explored. Minutes passed as we kissed deeply. More hungrily than before.

I had the answer! We parted long enough for me to nibble her ear lobe and tell her...

"My dream girl would..."

"Answer her phone!"

"Answer her email!"

"And suck my dick!"